


Winner Take All

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Racing, Ass to Mouth, Blowjobs, Bottom Thor, Come Sharing, M/M, Thundershield - Freeform, Top Steve, grease stains on cocks, messy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7651204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the day, win or lose, Steve doesn't want anything or anyone else but Thor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winner Take All

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the Thundershield racing au that no one asked for but yours truly envisioned because he watched Rush not too long ago. It's a really great movie and you get to see Chris Hemsworth's naked ass in it, so why not check it out for yourself?
> 
> Also written for the sake of more Steve/Thor porn, as this is a thing we all need.

            Another turn of the wrench and the bolt Steve’s working to replace comes loose-

            And rolls under the car, pinging brightly on the concrete and rolling away.  Steve mutters a curse and gets down on his back, the car raised up just enough to allow him to shimmy under it.  At least it fell through the frame and not into it – he’d hate to think what a loose bolt would do to the steering.  Or engine.  Or any of the other thousand things that can go wrong on a Formula One car. 

            It lies in a puddle of grease a few inches beyond his reach.  Grasping it proves difficult as it’s fairly smooth from where his tools have worn it, not to mention his sweaty, greasy fingers and the smear of slick it lies in.  The floor was once upon a time pristine white concrete, but thirty years of race cars and their crews have turned it a dull gray.  It’s a sharp contrast to the brilliant blue of the ocean but a mile away, and the waves lap playfully at the boat hulls in the marina.  It’s a fantastic day for a race, even if they do have a few hours to go yet.

            Thing is, Steve’s not quite ready to let his pride and joy go until it’s been inspected down to the last square inch, and he only trusts himself to look for the right things.  The bolt he had missed was but one thing he remember as he’d fallen asleep last night.

            He goes to his tool box and finds its replacement, tightening it in place.  It goes on without a protest, locking into place so snugly that it almost makes Steve’s heart stop – that has to be a good omen.  It’s just as well, as his driver needs all the luck he can get today.

            “I thought I might find you here.”

            Steve pauses in running his hands over the bodywork, doesn’t turn around to acknowledge the voice that called him out.  There’s no need – he knows exactly who it is.  Firm, masculine footsteps approach and echo in the vast garage, and the two of them are its only occupants – everyone else is relaxing before the race, or getting as much rest as they can. 

            He does straighten to close the cover to the ending compartment, and remains there with his hands on the lock as Thor comes up behind him and puts his massive hands on his stomach and chest to pull him backwards.  Soft beard hair shuffles against his neck as he’s kissed.

            “Had to look her over one more time, babe – I still think I’m missing something.”  Steve covers Thor’s hands with his own, putting his fingers where Thor’s are splayed so that he may grasp them tightly.  Thor’s skin is warm, like he’s been sunning himself.  He brings the right hand to his lips and kisses each knuckle, feeling their strength under his lips.

            “I assure you, everything will be fine.  You ran through your list twice in your slumber last night.”  Thor turns him around and Steve sees he’s in his street clothes – jeans despite the sultry weather and a gray tank top that does nothing to conceal his massive build – or the bite marks and hickies from their lovemaking the night before last.

            Steve circles his finger around a bruise on Thor’s collarbone.  “Because I’m nervous.”  He sighs a little, then looks the two inches up to meet Thor eye to eye.  “I’m _always_ nervous on race day.”

            “And you’re not even the one driving.”  Thor raises an eyebrow and leads him towards the other side of the car, against Steve’s massive rolling toolcase.  “You worry far too much, Steve.”

            “Because you _don’t._ ”  It’s true – Thor’s never as composed as he is on race day, and the harder the track, the more relaxed he is.  Hell, up until ten minute before race time at Nurburgring, he’d played Angry Birds on his phone and only acted half-interested when they’d been called to their cars.  “You could at least pretend to humor me.”

            “Why should I?”  Thor still has his hands on his body, only now they’re lingering on his waist.  “I have the best crew chief in the competition, the best car we’ve run yet, and a bright blue sky to race under.  Those are not worrying conditions.”  He finds Steve’s hipbones through the fabric of his overalls, the lack of an undershirt beneath them causing the touch to feel like little rays of sun right on his flesh.

            “Maybe not for you…”  He can’t really finish the thought, because Thor’s warm and big and reassuring, not to mention close.  Very, very close.  It’s not exactly helpful that he smells incredible, like tanning oil and sweat – combined with the lingering scent of high-octane fuel and rubber, Steve’s pretty much in heaven right now.  That specific mixture is always going to bring Thor to mind, even better when he’s actually here.

            “Shhh, Steve.”  Thor gives him a confident smile and rubs his beard against Steve’s clean-shaven cheek, then takes his dirt and grease streaked hands and places them under his shirt.  “I haven’t had an accident in two seasons now, that surely counts for something.”

            “Yeah, but if _I’m_ the one at fault-”  He doesn’t get a chance to finish because Thor’s kissing him, and it’s quickly turning deep.  It’s a cheap, dirty move but Steve gets why it’s done – he worries far too much.  Thor is a _superlative_ driver, that much is true.

            But he’s an even better kisser, and for a moment anyway, Steve lets himself forget all about racing, moving parts, and the end of the day when it will all be done and with luck, Thor will be back to kiss him again.

            Steve opens his mouth and Thor’s tongue feels as soft as the breeze wafting through the open doors at the entrance of the garage, silky and wet.  He has this very particular way of kissing that both comforts and arouses; Steve’s going to give the latter the advantage of what he feels more.  The adrenaline is already starting to surge in his system, and Thor’s touch does nothing to quell it. 

            Thor doesn’t seem to mind his dirty fingers as he slides them across his cheeks and around the back of his neck, drawing him down just a little to even their height.  The kiss gets deeper and God, Thor tastes amazing today, like fine champagne and confidence.  It’s infectious and the worry starts to leave Steve’s body bit by bit, until he’s got Thor against the tool chest and his knee between Thor’s thighs.

            A rumble from Thor makes Steve’s skin tingle as he brushes against his hard cock, outlined nearly perfectly in the tight jeans Thor always seems to favor.  Steve lips across Thor’s bottom lip and murmurs “may I?”

            “Yes.”  It comes out a little shaken – which means Thor’s far more aroused right now then he’s letting on.  Good – even if Thor pretends to be all swagger, they both need this release.  There’s a primal part of Steve that finds having Thor’s cock in his mouth to be rather comforting.

            Looking around just in case someone else is there, Steve drops to his knees and unzips his overalls until they’re all the way undone.  He’s only wearing boxers underneath them, so it’s no trouble to get his own cock out as he undoes Thor’s belt buckle and tugs his Levis down his thighs, his cock tenting out his orange (Thor’s lucky color) briefs so hard that it’s testing the quality of the fabric.

            Steve noses at the wet spot Thor’s made and looks up.  “You came down here just for me to blow you, didn’t you?”

            Thor pretends to be cross and puts his massive hands on Steve’s head, tender and strong at the same time.  “Oh, that’s not fair – I did genuinely want to see you before the race.”

            “Sure.”  Steve lets it go at that and pulls Thor’s underwear down, his massive uncut cock swinging free and dripping precome before him like nectar.  Steve catches a drop as it falls and takes Thor halfway down in one motion.

            It never fails to rob Thor of breath when he does that, and the tool chest rattles loudly as Thor catches himself against it.  He’s done this a thousand times (most of them in this exact situation) and it never, ever gets old to see Thor get weak in the knees from having Steve’s mouth around him.

            Steve knows the drill here – this isn’t the time to drag a blowjob out. Suck hard, suck fast, suck well.  This is more about clearing their heads far more than it is pleasure.  That comes later, after everyone’s glowing with congratulations or chasing sadness.  Really, that depends more on Thor – so Steve’s going to give him the best start possible.

            Thor moans and curses as his head hits the metal chest – it’s loud in the echo of the garage.  Steve takes it as encouragement and shifts the entirety of his focus to the head of Thor’s cock, jerking him with his right hand while his left stays on himself.  He goes faster on Thor than his own cock, hitting the spots Thor likes best as often as he can.  He goes fast enough that Thor doesn’t really have time to talk – otherwise his mouth would be spilling filth like nothing.

            Maybe Steve can work on that later.

            “Steve, Steve, I’m close you have to-”

            Steve thinks he was going to say “pull off” – except he doesn’t.  He swallows every drop, closing his eyes and savoring the taste as come fills up his mouth until it runs out of the corners.  He feels some of it get caught in his chest hair, dripping a warm, slick trail down his body until it gets lost in the patch of hair on his stomach.  That sensation alone is enough to send him over the edge and he comes all over the floor between Thor’s feet, just missing his patent leather boots.

            Thor pushes Steve back with a satisfied grunt and Steve looks up at him, smiling with come running down his chin and his spent dick hanging out of his overalls.

            “I…”  He has to clear his throat a couple times, still sticky with come.  “I think you’re ready to go now, Thor.”

            Thor’s got an enormous smile fixed on his face and he doesn’t bother to rearrange himself as he hauls Steve up off the floor, and he shivers when Steve’s cock touches his.  “May I just drop out of the race now and take you back up to the room instead?”

            “Not when the odds are you in favor – I don’t care how much I want to lick every rippling inch of you today.”  Steve claps Thor’s biceps and leaves grease prints on them – which means they’re all over Thor’s cock now too.  And his own.

            Looking down, he realizes he’s kind of made a mess of both of them and starts to reach for a towel.  “Uh, let me get that.”

            “Don’t you dare – leave them for luck.”  Thor pulls him in for another searing kiss, licking the come that remains in Steve’s mouth and taking it for himself.  It leaves Steve dizzy enough that he has to hold into Thor’s arms for another moment before he can let him go.

            “Even if you lose, there’s going to be more.”  Steve pulls Thor’s pants and underwear back up, leaving more stains on his briefs and not at all putting his belt loop back as tightly as he had it before.  “A lot more.”

            “We shouldn’t destroy another hotel room.”  Thor nuzzles his cheek and hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder.  “Our sponsors don’t want to pay for another one.”

            “Doesn’t have to be rough – but that depends on how well we do today, doesn’t it?”  Steve’s eyes are closed and this has to stop, or he’s going to get sleepy soon – the last thing they need.

            Except Thor is so _warm…_

“Truly.”  Thor reluctantly lets him go and he stands back, his broad hands holding Steve’s.  “Would you like to continue your work?”

            “Nah – I better get going, you should to.  We’ve got places to be soon.”

            Another kiss makes them late, and Steve’s perfectly fine with that.  It’s not the first time he’s been tardy to a crew chief meeting because of Thor’s tongue.

___

            Seventy eight laps.  Seventy eight chances for Steve’s heart to come thudding out of his chest.  Each one is longer than the last, in spite of the fact that Thor has already broken his record lap time for this track four times now.  They’re on lap forty three, and Steve hasn’t breathed the whole time. 

            It’s not a matter of speed in the Monaco Grand Prix – this is about precision, alertness, reaction time.  Each turn is deadlier than the last – there are two different hairpins that every time nearly cause a pile-up – and Steve wishes he could get out in the middle of the track and give Thor a straight shot to victory.  Of course he can’t do that, but he can listen, watch, keep his crew on their toes.  That’s the easy part.

            There are record breaking crowds in attendance, and they cheer wildly every time the racers come thundering down the pit stretch.  The thing about most Formula One cars is that they all sound the same – loud, efficient, deadly in their way.  Not Thor’s – even in the din of other cars, Thor’s stands out, the basso rumble of exhaust pipes an octave lower than everyone else’s.  That’s Steve’s invention, just a little touch to make him stand out.

            Not that Thor doesn’t stand out – he’s a solid three inches taller than every other driver, and when he’s in his element, he walks as a god, drives as if possessed.  Steve’s watched him climb up from sixteenth to fifth place over the last ten laps, biding his time and preparing himself for the last stretch of the race. 

            He pits on lap fifty, grinning triumphantly as if he’s already won.

            Steve shouts his crew into moving, and they move so fast they’re a blur.  Thor pushes the visor on his helmet up more to get a better look at Steve.

            “How’s she doing?”  Even shouting at his loudest it’s hard to be heard over the thunder of the McLaren’s exhaust.

            “Driving like a dream – this is even better than Le Mans last year.”  There’s fire in Thor’s eyes, mixed with this deep sort of admiration and pride.  He’s completely happy right now, and Steve’s breath steals away with the last tire as it’s bolted on.  Thor blows him a kiss and then he’s rocketing away, leaving Steve feeling very much like a schoolgirl who’s just been dropped off after a date.

            Over his radio, he hears Thor mumbling to himself, indistinct due to the noise but it sounds like he might be guiding himself through every turn.  Steve listens intently for a moment before he drops the connection, smiling.  He takes Thor’s self-involvement as a good thing and looks up at the jumbotron – he’s moved up to third, and given how he’s driving he’s not likely to cede the spot to anyone else.  Behind the smile and swagger, Thor’s got an iron will that’s close to indomitable.  Doesn’t really matter what he does, it’s always there – driving, bedding Steve, bettering himself in mind and body, they all receive the same intensity.

            For a moment, Steve lets his mind wander back to earlier that day in the garage, the feel of Thor’s lips against his own and the heat of his body.  He craves that mightily right now, as much as he does victory for him. 

            He better stop and focus – now his worry from that morning is replaced by lust, burning as hot as the sun above the marina.

            Lap sixty two sees Thor move a car length up to second, and Steve watches with bated breath.  He knows Thor will need to pit again soon – those tires aren’t hanging on by much.  They’re of the highest quality but the brutal turns and sudden decelerations are hell on them, and even the best wears out fast here.  Just the nature of the beast.

            Thor pits on sixty seven, looking serene.  “How are we doing?”

            Steve helps support the outsize gas can himself.  “Way better than I thought we were – only ten laps to go.”

            “Superb.”  Thor takes his helmet off for a moment and God, his hair’s all stuck to his forehead and his ponytail is a mess; Steve wants to run his fingers through it and not let go until Thor’s even sweatier than he is now.

            Thor notices him staring intently and winks.  “Later, Steve.”

            Truly, damn the race – the look on Thor’s face is promise enough.  “You’ve got this, babe.”

            Thor slams his helmet back on and takes his position literally the moment the car behind him crosses the finish line.  Ten laps, Thor, that’s all. 

            Seven.

            Four.

            Two.

            The car in front of Thor suddenly decelerates in the middle of the track, the driver frantically moving to get his automobile under control.  Thor and the other three cars behind him snap around at breakneck speed and on the screen, he sees Thor look back for a split second to make sure the other driver is okay – and then he’s stepping on the gas, moving like a solar wind across trackless space.  Steve nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Thor gain a full three second advantage, thundering around the last two turns and God, oh _God_ he’s coming across the finish line-

            Monaco erupts with cheering so loud it’s like a sonic boom.  Thor has his hands in the air, fists clenched in victory for but a moment before he takes a lap for himself, driving with one hand still raised, reveling in his victory.  Steve’s cheering the loudest of all though, and if anyone sees the tears of relief and joy leaking from the corners of his eyes well.. he won’t deny them. 

            Thor comes back to his pit stop and Steve’s there immediately, his arms going around Thor before he’s even had a chance to make it all the way out of the car.  He gets Thor out of his helmet so he can bury his face in his neck, laughing and crying and clinging to Thor so tightly that he hears Thor struggling to breathe.

            “Steve, the… the reporters.”

            “Let ‘em look.”  Steve backs off an inch, only to dip Thor and kiss him right as a light storm of flashbulbs go off – they’ll run the two photos tomorrow, probably next to each other.  One of Thor crossing the finish line, the other of Steve kissing his dirt-streaked face.

            Good – it’s not exactly like they’re a secret.

            Steve lets him go right before Thor’s tongue slides into his mouth.  “Go – enjoy your victory.  Need to check on my baby.”

            Thor lets himself be pulled away, reluctant to let Steve go.  “I _will_ see you later.”

            “Seriously, go.  Spray expensive champagne on people and enjoy yourself.”  Steve wants to disappear before the interviews start – he’s not much for public speaking, much less international coverage.  That kiss was more than enough.

            He drives the car to their private bay and turning on the radio he uses to catch up on events post-race, sets to the task of making sure Thor can race again.

__

            Midnight finds Steve still with the car, his official race overalls now half-open and his forearms streaked with dirt up to his elbows.  Thor had driven hard today and while he has yet to actually replace anything, he’s got a master plan already in place.  He wipes his hands for the hundredth time on a rag and locks up, making sure the car is secure and starts the trip back to their hotel.

            There aren’t many people in the lobby; they’re all downtown, still celebrating or drowning their sorrows for their favorite driver’s loss.  He’s thankful for the quiet, and no one bothers to approach him as he heads for the hotel’s restaurant and orders a bottle of champagne and two glasses.  He very much wants to celebrate, but with one person in particular.  It might be a while before Thor shows up (his family had come to watch as well, and as much as Steve loves them, he can’t party nearly as hard as an Odinson.)  Just means he’s got time to clean up and be ready for him.

            He’s balancing the ice bucket and two glasses in one hand as he opens the door, humming softly under his breath.  The luxury of the front room of their suite is lost on him in the dark, and he moves by feeling to the master bedroom.  This is always where they stay when they’re in Monaco and Steve knows where all the furniture is as he walks around it, moving nearly silently.

            He flicks on the light, ready to take a shower and relax only to see-

            Thor, sound asleep in their bed, his arms curled around Steve’s pillow.

            Huh.  Weird.

            Steve sits the champagne down and takes his shoes off, mindful of his dirty overalls as he goes and kneels down, next to the bed, Thor’s broad, tanned back to him. 

            “Babe, wake up.”  Steve kisses the back of his neck and finally gets to put his fingers in Thor’s hair, stroking the soft blonde strands and licking his lips as Thor turns over onto his back automatically reaches for his hand.

            “Better a grease-streaked mechanic to wake me than some young prince.”  Thor opens his eyes, lids heavy with exhaustion and contentment.  “The former tends to be more experienced in most matters.”

            “My kingdom for a shower, though.”  Steve raises up on his haunches a touch to fall into the kiss Thor’s bringing him to and this time, he opens his mouth immediately to him.  There’s a lingering taste of alcohol on Thor’s breath, not enough to signal him as drunk but plenty to tell him that’s probably why he came back to rest.  He goes deeper, finally able to give Thor the sort of kiss he wanted to in the victor’s circle.  It doesn’t take much effort on Thor’s part to light the fire of arousal that’s been simmering low in his body since that morning, not with his powerful hands trying to drag him onto the bed and the thrill of victory still thrumming in their veins.

            Thor breaks the kiss and puts his hands inside Steve’s overalls.  “Must you shower now?”  His thumbs rub Steve’s nipples through his undershirt, soaked with sweat enough that it’s practically see through.  “I’ve already touched myself thinking of you and well…” 

            The thoughts of Thor masturbating, all alone and drunk on his own accomplishment while thinking of Steve is enough to convince him.

            He’s not going anywhere yet.

            “Guess you don’t need me then, huh?”  Steve playfully attempts to escape, only to have Thor lock him in with those powerful arms and drag him up onto the bed.  That wouldn’t be an easy task for anyone except Thor – there’s a deep, secret part of Steve that thrills continually at being thrown around like he weighs nothing.

            “I very much need you.”  Thor unzips his overalls the rest of the way down and finds naked skin as he raises his undershirt.  “And want you.”  His thumbs go back to his nipples and Steve moans, his head dipping as Thor’s sure hands go to work on him.  They’re even steadier on him than they are on the wheel of his car, knowing exactly where to go to make Steve feel _everything._

He gets himself out of his overalls and undershirt, leaving Thor free to sit up and hold him in his lap, still separated by a couple layers of clothing and the bedsheets.  Thor licks up the column of Steve’s throat, nipping gently at Steve’s pulse points and adding more to the artist’s palette of bruises that changes almost every day.  Steve closes his eyes and tilts his head back, losing himself to that sensation.

            “That feels so fucking good, Thor.”  He has his hands in Thor’s hair and on his back, raking gentle scratches across the hard planes of muscle.  “Don’t stop, babe, _please.”_

            Thor rumbles agreement, massaging long, slow circles into Steve’s sides as he sucks on his left nipple, inhaling deeply from his chest hair the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber.  “Not when I’ve wanted you since I woke up this morning.”  His hands dip further, down into the waistband of his underwear.  “I want to see you naked.”

            Steve nods and disentangles himself from Thor’s embrace, hurrying to push the rest of his clothing off.  Thor leans back on his hands and watches with hungry eyes, arousal coloring his cheeks pink and making his nipples harden.  The signs of lust never fail to make themselves well known on Thor’s body – and Steve can’t wait to get his hands on more.

            Fully naked, Steve takes a step towards the bed.  “Better?”

            “Yes.”  Thor’s breathless, eagerness making him shove the bedclothes down past his legs.  His cock’s fully hard, pointed up and lying against his abs.  Precome’s already started to leak from it, leaving little smeary patches on his skin.  He starts to get up, only to change his mind halfway there and ends up lying across the bed, with his head hanging off.

            He licks his lips and opens his mouth, showing perfect white teeth and that sinfully pink tongue.

            Oh.

            _Oh._

See, when Thor wins, he’s the one who wants to do the pleasuring.  When he loses, Steve gets fucked through the mattress.  He’s incredibly glad the former happened today, as Thor tends to fuck hard enough to leave him sore for days afterwards.

            “You sure, babe?  No offense, but I kind of smell like, well, a race track.”

            “Steve, put your cock in my mouth _now_ or the consequences will be yours to suffer.”  Even upside down and ready to suck towards some blissful place, he carries a lot of authority.  It’s all Steve can do to move fast and comply.

            Steve thought he’d gotten the full experience the first time he’d made out with Thor, back in their small circuit days – how delightfully he’d been proven wrong.  Thor’s mouth on his cock is some lost piece of heaven, warmer than any other beautiful part of him, inviting in a way that Steve never would have thought given his nature.  Then again, Thor would let himself be bad at giving head.

            “God _damn.”_ Thor’s already working his throat around Steve’s girth, his hands on his hips to keep him steady.  He can’t see Thor’s eyes right now – but he doesn’t need to.  He knows exactly what sort of place Thor’s in right now.  Instead he watches Thor’s cock leak, his toes curl, the unconscious parting of his thighs.  There’s an invitation if Steve ever saw one – so he uses his long reach and manages to pull enough of his cock out of Thor’s mouth to lean down and rub his hole.

            Thor moans around him and the vibration nearly makes Steve implode on himself. 

            “Want it bad, don’t you babe?”  Steve sweetens his words, not letting any shame into them.  There is no top/bottom dynamic to their relationship, neither one of them dominant or submissive.  “Can’t wait to have my cock inside you, can you?”  Steve rubs him again and Thor’s heels dig into the mattress in an effort to keep himself spread, one hand now cupping and tugging Steve’s balls.  He could seriously stay like this for hours, with Thor keeping him right on the edge the whole time and drawing out his pleasure as long as they can both stand it – but Thor needs him in a very particular way today.  Who is he to deny it?

            Leaving Thor’s incredibly pleasant mouth is a hardship he doesn’t like to endure, and Thor honestly looks lost when Steve backs away.  “Let me at that pretty hole, Thor.”

            “As you wish.”  On the way over, Thor grabs him for another kiss and Steve’s mouth is duly invaded.  He tastes himself on Thor’s tongue, the salt of sweat and precome making him crave Thor’s body to an almost painful extent.  Thor has to push him away and before he can get his hands back on Steve’s body, grabs his thighs and pulls them almost to his chest.

            “I’ve been looking forward to this all day, Thor.”  Thor’s hole is beautiful, bright pink and puckered like a little starburst.  He has little hair to shave down here, and what is present only accentuates.  “Wanted to do this just as soon as you got out of that car.”  Steve looks up, pressing his hands to Thor’s ass and spreading him further.

            “Do it, Steve – now is not the time for patience.”  It’s as close to begging as Thor is ever going to get.  He licks a broad swipe up Thor’s ass, all the way up to his balls, sucking them into his mouth for a full thirty seconds before he’s back at Thor’s hole.  Steve would tease him, edge his cock and stay here for an hour or better but really, there’s no use in that right now.  They’re both fatigued, and Steve wants to be inside Thor just as much as Thor wants him to be there. 

            It’s still gratifying to hear Thor moan loud enough to shake the walls as he eats him out, having long ago perfected his technique on his high school girlfriend.  As it turns out, the same skills transfer well to eating out his guy’s ass, and Thor has not once complained.  Right now Steve can feel Thor’s thighs starting to close in around his head and he digs his fingers into the thick muscle, holding him still until he’s pressed so hard into Thor’s body that all he smells, sees, _feels_ is Thor.  It’s more exhilarating than watching Thor race, his blood pounding as his oxygen gets cut and Thor’s hands on his head pull at his scalp for release.

            “ _Steve.”_

            Time to move.

            “Here, babe – lube?”  Thor reaches under the pillow where he’d stashed the lube at the beginning of the week, the bottle now half-empty.  Steve swoops down for a kiss as he applies it to Thor’s spit-wet hole, staying there until he’s got three fingers in Thor’s ass and he’s leaked come all over his belly.  It’s a beautiful sort of mess, and Steve doesn’t bother to wipe Thor’s spit from his mouth when he leans up to align himself with Thor’s ass.

            “Ready?”

            Thor grabs his hips and growls.  “I’m not lying here for the hell of it, Steve – fuck me _now._ ”

            When it comes right down to it, Thor’s an extremely bossy bottom.  Steve kind of loves him even more for it. 

            “By your command, Thor.”  Steve kisses him in the same instant he starts to push into his body and even after all that prep, Thor’s still tight.  He squirms and moans into Steve’s mouth as Steve buries himself to the hilt, his hips canted up to slot perfectly with Steve’s body.

            Thor’s hands settle into their iron grip on his sides and his eyes go a little unfocused as he adjusts himself that last little bit to Steve’s cock.  “Right… right here.”

            “Yeah?”  Steve rolls his hips and bites Thor’s neck, making his breath hitch.  “Feel me against your sweet spot?”  His fingers are sweaty enough now that the grease is starting to come off of them and he leaves black bands around Thor’s cock when he takes him in his right hand.  “Like this?”  He strokes up, making Thor’s foreskin bunch up between his fingers.  He fucks a little deeper, a little harder, keeping Thor right on the edge of completely losing his mind.

            “ _Yes._ ”  Thor’s hold on his hips tightens and Steve feels him down to the bone.  “Steve, please don’t hold back.”

            “I won’t babe, I promise.”  He kisses Thor, sucking on his tongue while he jerks him off.  He settles back on his heels so he’s angled just right, fucking with short, deep thrusts that make precome flood out over his fingers.  Thor’s blunt nails dig in hard enough to hurt, making Steve growl back and bite Thor’s bottom lip.  They’re both close, far more keyed up than they’re going to acknowledge but God it’s tremendous, keeping on that fragile precipice. 

            Steve hits Thor’s prostate one times too many and suddenly he’s coming, spunk coating his hand in thick white globs where he’s been stroking him.  Thor’s back arches higher and higher through his orgasm, his teeth bared right against Steve’s lips and then he’s down, breathing heavily and licking the taste of his own sweat from his lips.

            “In my mouth.”

            Steve hurries, wincing with Thor as he pulls out of his ass.  He straddles that broad, incredibly chest and Thor only has to suck him for a moment before he’s coming all over his lips and chin, his come thick like Thor’s.  Thor swallows half and lets the rest drip down his body, looking up at Steve with wide, dark blue eyes and not at all looking like a world-class race car driver.

            He smacks his lips as Steve finishes and Steve is dragged down again, rolled over onto his back as Thor ruts through the aftershocks.  Steve tastes a lot of himself, Thor’s body, and the last vestiges of race day from his mouth.  It leaves him feeling fuzzy all over, even more so than the half-forgotten champagne still chilling in the bucket.  He goes to finger the come from Thor’s ass but Thor closes his legs to him, leaving Steve confused.

            “Use your mouth – I want to be eaten out more.”

            Like hell if Steve’s going to say no to that.

            It’s past two by the time Steve’s done, his face and lips covered in spit and come, his ears ringing with the sounds of Thor’s moans.  They’re burned into his memory much the same as the exhaust of his race car, mixed with Thor’s heartbeat under his ear.

            For a while at least, Steve’s completely content.

            “I forgot to thank you earlier.”  Steve’s scritching his fingers through Thor’s treasure trail, listening to the soft hairs rasp against his fingertips.

            “For what?”

            “You credited me with your victory in one of the interviews – you can’t do that, babe, you’re the one who drove the car.”  Steve looks up at Thor, holding a champagne glass and sucking the bubbles off of his lips.

            “Your humility is becoming, but I didn’t say a word I didn’t mean.”  He offers the glass to Steve and he takes a sip.  Even if it has gone a little flat, it’s still delicious.  Thor kisses the taste off of his mouth before he continues, his fingers idly stroking Steve’s hair.  “This isn’t a one man effort, and you know it.”

            Steve nods and smiles, then takes the glass and drinks the rest of the champagne, making Thor grunt in annoyance.  “Easy does it, there’s more where that came from.”

            “Good.”  Steve climbs out of bed, still dirty and sweat-damp but completely unwilling to do anything about it yet.  He stumble across his overalls as he walks over to the champagne bucket – then remembers something.  “Oh – here you are by the way.”

            Before every race, Thor takes off his wedding ring so that just in case something happens, Steve has it to hold onto.  They’re solid, dark silver things that Thor had custom made from his first racer – Steve still remembers just how honored he felt when Thor had made that decision because he _loved_ that car.

            Thor holds up his finger for Steve to slide it back on, followed by the second champagne flute.  “Another one where I get to keep what’s rightfully mine.”  Thor clinks his glass to Steve’s and makes room for him again at his side.

            “You’re gonna have to let me up eventually, you know – and let’s keep it so that I can hand it back to you at the end of the race.  I’d look silly wearing two rings.”  He doesn’t let the sadness of the thought of losing Thor anywhere near his mind, not when they’re both celebrating.

            “I like being covered in your grease stains, so you shall stay.”

            As Steve takes another sip of champagne and leans into his husband’s enveloping embrace, he decides that maybe the ruined sheets are completely worth it.

           


End file.
